


these lavish little oaths

by teeterss



Category: Lupin III
Genre: First Time, Gun Violence, M/M, Pining, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:33:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26249494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teeterss/pseuds/teeterss
Summary: “You ever going to tell me something about you that's real?” Jigen asks.
Relationships: Jigen Daisuke/Arsène Lupin III
Comments: 13
Kudos: 160





	these lavish little oaths

It’s hot on the deck of the yacht. Too hot for a wool suit. Jigen hadn’t dressed for sunbathing that morning but he hadn’t known they were planning on stealing a boat, along with the stash of Mongolian treasure they’d discovered hidden below either. He was starting to learn that life with Lupin was filled with the unexpected. 

“You ever going to tell me something about you that's real?” Jigen asks. Not accusatory, just genuinely curious. The drink that’s half way to Lupin’s lips pauses mid-air, droplets of condensation rolling down the glass.

In the getaway Lupin had laughingly told him he had no idea how to drive a yacht, that Jigen would have to do it for them if they wanted to make it out alive. Jigen had handled a few vessels for wealthy clients that expected a bodyguard to act as chauffeur so he hadn’t minded, but he’d just watched Lupin expertly operate the controls, spinning the wheel single handed while he sipped his cocktail, manoeuvring their position to best face the sun.

Lupin dabs at the bottom of the bleeding glass with a napkin then says, "I’m really fond of peaches.”

Jigen snorts, shaking his head, turning to look out over the glistening waters. He hadn’t really been expecting a straight answer from the thief, half the fun was wondering what the hell would come out of his mouth next. 

In the few weeks he’d known Lupin he’d already discovered that the man had a very distant relationship with the truth. Lupin seemed to find the whole concept to be a dull inconvenience that just got in the way of an interesting life. It bothered Jigen less than it probably should to have a partner that openly lied to him, but the truth had rarely been kind to him so he felt no great loss in losing it.

In the beginning Lupin had given him the same spiel he gave everyone, “I’m Arsène Lupin III, grandson of Arsène Lupin, the world’s greatest gentleman thief.” If it was a story it was a good one - certainly believable given Lupin’s natural talent for theft and penchant for women. And for some reason Jigen, whose cynicism ran deep to the bone, was inclined to believe it. 

There was a conviction to everything Lupin said that made you want to buy into what he was selling. A true belief in it that made it appealing rather than galling. He was far more interesting than anything Jigen had experienced in a long while. So, he stayed and listened to more of Lupin’s enjoyable lies.

In the next port over they sold the yacht, sans treasure, with Lupin posing as a frivolous socialite who’d grown bored of this model and wanted an upgrade. If Lupin wanted, he could be the world’s greatest salesman too. Jigen had no idea how he shifted the million-dollar tub with zero paperwork to accompany it.

Afterwards in the yacht club bar, Jigen watched Lupin, who was dressed in a ridiculous navy blazer and cheap captain’s hat he bought at a tourist shop, telling a beautiful young woman about his tales at sea and how he’d nearly drowned sailing through a storm. Jigen snorted at most of it but couldn’t help but sit and listen, catching himself half believing him.

*

Jigen remembers every detail of Lupin’s life he lets slip, hoarding them in the hope he'll gain some better understanding of the man if he does. Half of them are contradictory, the other half too ludicrous to ever entertain as true, but still Jigen remembers them.

On the day Lupin had once mentioned as being his birthday, Jigen buys him a bushel of peaches from a local vendor, picking out the plumpest, rosiest ones he could find and attaches a card to the basket that says, “Something real for the man who has everything else.”

Lupin laughs when he reads it and bites into the ripe fruit, the juices leaving his fingers sticky and wet, then asks Jigen what’s the occasion. 

*

They’re being shot at in Prague and it’s curious only in that they haven’t even started causing trouble there yet. Lupin’s in the driver’s seat while Jigen fires back blindly at the car in pursuit whenever he gets a clear shot.

“What’re we working with?” Lupin asks as he takes a sharp turn down another alley, leaving black tire marks in their wake.

“One guy. Professional. Expensive.” Jigen said, clipped and to the point, retreating his firing arm once again as Lupin turns down an even narrower lane. “We must have really pissed someone off.”

They take a few more hits to the car then the cramped winding streets open up into a main road and Jigen finally gets his chance. He springs up through the sunroof, magnum raised. It takes 0.3 seconds for him to line up his shot and take in the man in the other car. His finger faults on the trigger.

The pause gets him clipped in the shoulder.

“Never known you to miss before,” Lupin says later when he cleans him up in their hideout. Jigen’s lucky, the bullet had gone straight through, avoiding bone and arteries. He’s more pissed about the ruined Armani jacket.

“I didn’t miss ‘cause I didn’t shoot,” Jigen says, teeth gritted around a cigarette he’s chewed on more than he’s smoked. “Gimme that goddamn whiskey.”

Lupin lets him drink from the bottle as he finishes off the stitches. They’re neat and perfectly symmetrical. Jigen watches Lupin’s steady hands pull at the needle rhythmically, Lupin’s breath hot on his neck where they sit close. Jigen resists the urge to shiver so as not to disturb his work. When he’s done, Jigen shrugs on his shirt, leaving it hanging open.

Lupin clears away the utensils and bloody cloth then comes to sit at a perch on the coffee table, hands folded in front of him, watching Jigen expectantly.

Jigen busies himself lighting up a new cigarette one handed and offers one to Lupin. When he can't think of any other reason to delay this conversation he says, “His name is Jasper, he never told me his full name. He’s a tracker, one of the best I’ve ever seen, could find anyone anywhere. Like a friggin animal.” Jigen lets out a stream of smoke in a tight burst out his pursed lips, avoiding Lupin’s intense eyes. “Worked with him for about six months, suppose you could say we were partners.”

“Why does he want to kill you?”

Jigen shrugs his good shoulder. “No idea, we left on good terms. Must be a contract.”

Lupin taps him on the knee, making Jigen look at him. “You gonna have a problem taking him out?”

“No,” Jigen says without hesitation.

Lupin nods once then leans back on his hands, staring up at the ceiling, thinking. Jigen watches the line of his throat, the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows. He doesn’t want to wait for Lupin to say it so he does it for him. “Let me rest for a bit then I’ll clear out. I know Jasper, he’ll find me soon enough and you can get away.”

Lupin’s head snaps up and he looks at him, bemused. “What’s that?”

“I’ll draw him out on my own,’ Jigen says gruffly. “There’s no need for you to get caught up in all this.”

Lupin smiles, warm and open. Jigen stares back at him, feeling rooted to his spot on the worn old sofa. He’d come to find there’s more honestly in those eyes than in anything that comes out his mouth. “We’re partners, Jigen," Lupin says. "I’m not going anywhere.”

They trace the contract on them back to a previous mark in Tunisia. They’d liberated the old tycoon of a flashy jade statue about two months back, which Jigen hardly thought was worth killing over, but then Lupin had been particularly smug on that job. He’d publicly humiliated the mark after he’d claimed Lupin would never make it into his state-of-the-art compound, but it was hardly malicious, typical Lupin school boy bullshit. Some people just can’t take a joke. Jigen feels no guilt in putting a bullet in the man once they catch up to him.

Jasper had always been a practical man and when the client’s dead the job is dead. Jigen is privately relieved he doesn’t have to take him out too. He’s always felt squeamish about killing someone whose touch he can still remember. 

They meet afterwards in a grotty bar. Lupin had made some excuse about needing to work back at the hideout which Jigen appreciated. When Jasper arrives, he claps a hand on Jigen’s bad shoulder and chuckles when he winces.

“Never thought I’d manage to hit you,” he says, taking a seat and nodding to the shoulder. “That new partner of yours making you soft?”

“Nah,” Jigen says, “just teaching me new tricks,” and tosses Jasper’s wallet and watch he’d just lifted from him onto the table, making the man snort with laughter.

Lupin hands Jigen a martini when he walks through the hideout door a few hours later. Jigen still marvels at how Lupin can find a lemon twist even in the most remote places.

“So,” Lupin says after a while, sipping from his own glass, “any more deadly ex-partners I should know about?”

Jigen slumps further into the threadbare sofa, the fatigue of a few days without rest catching up to him. “Might save time just to name the people I know who aren’t trained killers.”

Lupin laughs, a sniggering titter. “That’s what I like about you, Jigen dear, you’re a very dangerous man to know.” And with that the subject was dropped. Lupin starts on about going to Tuscany and a new Formula 1 circuit he wants to try.

That was always the way with him. When a job's done Lupin rarely dwells on it, already moving onto the next one before the dust has even settled. Not even when they’d just been hunted by a man who’d once sat opposite Jigen just as Lupin is now. Once it was over it was over. Jigen had to wonder how many other things got dropped so completely from Lupin’s life. 

He wasn’t naive, he knew Lupin must have had other partners before him just as Jigen had his fair few of them, but at least with Jigen there was evidence they existed. With Lupin, there was no trace of them anywhere, as absent as Lupin’s own past. 

Jigen still remembers how readily Lupin had extended his hand and offered him partnership, like it was the most obvious thing in the world to team up with the man actively trying to kill him. It must have happened before, Jigen wasn’t special enough to be the only one.

“You’re looking very serious, Jigen,” Lupin says, cutting through Jigen’s thoughts, his curved mouth turned down into a pout. “I’m starting to suspect you haven’t taken in a word I’ve said.” Jigen grunts and sits up from his slouch on the sofa to drain his glass, flicking the stacked ash from his cigarette onto the table. 

“You have to say something nice about me now to make up for it,” Lupin says, the playful note in his voice making Jigen’s tense shoulders relax a little.

“You make one hell of a martini,” Jigen says just to make Lupin laugh.

*

They’re starting to be referred to as The Lupin Gang. Jigen thinks it's a title more suited for a playground but Lupin finds it endlessly amusing. He reads articles about their exploits aloud and giggles at every mention of it. Jigen just rolls his eyes, not willing to admit that he gets more of a kick out of being referred to as Lupin’s partner in the print. He’s never been one for fame seeking or even infamy, but there’s something to being known as Lupin’s right-hand man, the one that has his ear and deepest confidence. Jigen doesn’t think being remembered as that would be too bad.

It’s what the officers call him when he’s caught. “It’s Lupin’s partner, sir,” one says. “He’s in disguise but it’s Daisuke Jigen alright.” This time Jigen feels no sense of pride at hearing it. 

He keeps his head down as heavy booted officers march back and forth where he’s being kept handcuffed on the pavement next to the van they’d just commandeered. He feels ridiculous in his food delivery overalls and wishes they’d at least give him back his hat so his eyes could be covered.

The job should have been easy. Lupin and Fujiko had both had their eyes on a duchess’s jewellery collection that she had recently claimed to be the best in the world. Jigen had no idea why anyone would go around making such claims when it was known that Lupin took such declarations as a direct invitation. The opportunity to liberate the woman of her collection came with the summer ball the duke and duchess held annually on their country estate. 

Lupin and Fujiko were to infiltrate the party as disguised guests while Jigen acted as getaway driver posing as a catering service. Everything was going to plan. Jigen met no resistance driving up to the side entrance of the estate reserved for deliveries and wasn’t bothered once as he sat waiting for Lupin to show. Two hours into the party Lupin slid out the servant’s entrance, a large, ornate jewellery box tucked under one arm, a wide grin on his altered face. Jigen kept watch while Lupin jumped in the back of the van to hide the box in one of the many crates stacked there. All Jigen had to do was drive away while Lupin and Fujiko remained behind to act as surprised as everyone else when the jewellery was discovered stolen.

Jigen should have guessed there would be added police presence on the major roads for a party that had received a threat from Lupin III. Or had the foresight to ditch the van sooner. As it was, he was met by Zenigata and three squadrons of uniformed police crossing the bridge out of town.

Zenigata was now barking orders at the men as they searched the contents of the van, sounding more like a drill sergeant than the blustering fool Jigen had always thought of him as.

“This route only leads one way, up to Geisenbrunn village,” Zenigata instructs the men surrounding him, pointing to a map spread out on the bonnet of the van. “That’s where Lupin will be waiting for the score. Take a squad there to meet him, I’ll follow once we’ve secured the package.” The men salute and Jigen cringes. Lupin and Fujiko would return to the hideout any minute expecting to be greeted by Jigen and the jewels only to find a fleet of officers instead. Jigen presses his forehead to his knees, eyes screwed tight. He’d never failed Lupin like this before.

“Sir!” A uniformed officer pokes his head out the back of the van. “It’s not here, sir.” Jigen’s head snaps up in unison with Zenigata yelling “What?!”

“We’ve searched every crate, pulled out all the lining of the compartment, there’s nothing here.” Jigen blinks in confusion while Zenigata begins yelling fresh orders, his voice losing its controlled edge. It makes no sense. Jigen had seen Lupin put the loot in the van and a box that size would be hard to hide well enough to avoid detection even for a man like Lupin. 

“I’ll take a car back to the party,” Zenigata yells over the noise. “Lupin will be there, he must be. He must’ve hidden the Duchess’s jewels back on the property!”

“Sir, what about this one?” asks an officer from behind Jigen.

“What?” Zenigata says, distracted. “Oh, yes, take him back to the station. I need to question him about Lupin.”

Jigen is pulled up by his elbow and led to a squad car. He hardly notices what he’s doing, still too busy trying to pick apart what has happened.

“Now don’t struggle, citizen,” says the officer, as he pushes Jigen down into the car. He leans over Jigen in the pretence of fastening his seat belt and whispers “Or I’ll have to give you a very thorough cavity search.” There’s the click of his handcuffs being unlocked and Jigen looks up to see Lupin grinning at him, barely containing his laughter.

“Lupin!” Jigen hisses, “what the-” But Lupin presses a finger to his own lips and adjusts his amused face into a stern look before closing the door and crossing the car to take his place in the driver’s seat.

They continue the pretence until Lupin brings the car round a bend in the road and the bridge and Zenigata are out of sight. “What the friggin hell happened, Lupin?” Jigen demands the moment they’re clear. “Where’s the stash?”

“All will be explained back at base,” Lupin says in a singsong voice.

“We can’t go back there. Lupin, Zenigata’s figured out where the hideout is. He saw where I was headed and worked it out.” Jigen’s gut twists with shame and he ducks his head, taking a deep breath. “Look, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have got caught, it was stupid.”

“Oh Jigen, Jigen, Jigen,” Lupin says, still in the same tone that’s starting to grate on Jigen’s nerves. “Don’t worry so much!” Jigen’s questions are drowned out by Lupin turning on the radio to some pop station and singing badly along with the wrong lyrics.

Lupin doesn’t divulge a thing until they’re upstairs in a hotel suite Jigen had never been to before. Jigen follows at Lupin’s heel up the winding staircase of the hotel, hands stuffed in his pockets and shoulders hunched, feeling, for the first time, like he was working for Lupin instead of his partner.

Fujiko is splayed out on the couch inside the room, the duchess’s jewels spread out around her. She has a cigarette lit, perched between two delicate fingers.

“Lupin,” she croons, eyelashes batting in a way that’s somehow both seductive and innocent. “They’re all so pretty, how am I supposed to choose only my favourite to keep?”

Lupin is by her side immediately, perched on the edge of the couch as close as he dare without touching her. “Then you may have as many as you wish, my dear.”

It’s like they’re in their own little world that’s nothing but diamonds and champagne, where the petty worries of real life can't touch them. Jigen always feels like an outsider when they’re together, never fitting into their fantasy.

“Cut the crap, you two,” he snaps, his fists clenching in his pockets. “What the fuck just happened tonight?”

Lupin twists back to look at him, a slightly bashful smile on his lips. “Well you see, Jigen, we had to be a little sneaky with you on this one.”

Fujiko is smiling at him over Lupin’s shoulder, her eyes losing any trace of innocence. “What the fuck does that mean?” Jigen spits.

“I knew old man Zenigata would have the place surrounded and we'd need a little distraction to get him off our backs long enough to get the jewels out. A van leaving late like that couldn’t help but gain his attention. I couldn’t tell you, you’re a hopeless actor, Jigen dear, but we’ll work on that. Next time I won’t have to lie.” 

Jigen roughly pulls out his ratty packet of cigarettes from his overall pocket, needing to do something with his hands to keep from punching Lupin. They're shaking when he lights it, the flame flickering with the movement. He’s never been on this side of Lupin’s lie before. Usually it felt more like an in-joke, both of them understanding it as the wink and a nudge that it was. It’s never left him feeling hollow before, wrung out, used.

“Don’t pout, Jigen,” Fujiko says, her voice thick like honey. She puts her cigarette out in the glass of wine Lupin just poured for her. “You’re getting paid, aren’t you?” Lupin laughs like it’ll wipe the slate clean. Like it’s all Jigen needs to forgive him. It’s humiliating that he might be right.

Jigen watches the pair of them together on the couch. It’s a fancy thing, high backed and thin legged. Fujiko must have picked the hotel, it’s too upscale for Lupin to have bothered choosing. She whispers something in Lupin’s ear and immediately his attention is back on her, fawning over her, loving her.

They’re too similar, that’s the problem. Or the attraction. They’re both so narcissistic that of course they’d fall hopelessly in love with themselves. The parts of Lupin Jigen could never understand fit Fujiko like a glove, like they’re one part of a complete set. It's redundant to be jealous, to wish to fill that spot instead, because he never could. Jigen would have to give up everything that he is and all the parts of Lupin he's able to reach.

He leaves them to it, wanting a long shower and a fresh pair of clothes that don’t smell like sidewalk, and he’s not sure they even notice the door close behind him.

“I’m not working with that Fujiko again,” Jigen tells Lupin in the morning when the apartment is empty save the two of them and a little hotel notelet with a pressed lipstick kiss.

Lupin sips his room service coffee, admiring the view from the balcony, looking perfectly content for a man who’d just lost out on his share of the score. “That’s funny you’d say that, Jigen,” he says. “That’s exactly what Fujiko told me.”

*

They’re scaling over a rooftop when the first firework goes off.

“Holy shit, Jigen,” Lupin says, delighted, setting down his heavy bag filled with gold bars to look up at the sky. “Did you remember it was new year’s?”

“‘Course I did,” Jigen says gruffly around the cigarette between his teeth. “Didn’t you see the parade? The friggin dragons going down the street?” He shifts his bag up higher on his shoulder, feeling the ache from a long since healed bullet wound. “Can we get a move on; this shit is heavy.”

“Must’ve missed it,” Lupin says dreamily, not budging an inch. Jigen could never get over how observant Lupin was and yet how he was able to completely miss what was right in front of him.

“Well, it’s Chinese New Year,” Jigen says, setting down his own bag with a sigh. Clearly Lupin wouldn’t be shifting for a while. “I can never remember the date. I think it changes.” 

“What do you think the animal is?”

“What animal?”

“Y’know, it’s always the year of something.” Lupin grins then puffs out his cheeks. “Of course, I was born in the year of the monkey.”

Jigen snorts, not believing him for a second but making a note to look up those years anyway. “Dunno, think this last one was a goat or cow or some shit.”

“Let’s stay and watch, huh, Jigen?” Lupin says but Jigen was already sitting down to let his legs dangle over the edge of the tiled roof. They’re no longer being chased and there’s no way the police could even get to them through this hubbub. They could rest here a little while.

They sit together on the rooftop, swinging their legs and going through their smokes. Lupin hoots and yells every now and then at a particularly spectacular firework. Jigen watches the way the coloured lights play off the brightness of his eyes, the wide stretch of his grinning mouth. It takes years off him, when he’s happy like this. Could be a kid again, not that Jigen had known him back then.

“Wow, I’ve never been in Hong Kong for the new year, they really go all out, huh.” Lupin bumps his shoulder into Jigen’s, making him rock back into him. “We first met on new year’s, didn’t we?”

“What?” Jigen says with a startled laugh. “No, we didn’t!”

“Yes, we did! In New York!”

“It was in the summer, not winter. It was hot as shit, Lupin, how can you not remember?”

Lupin screws up his face comically, like he was trying to force the memory out. “I remember there were fireworks for sure.”

“That was probably from the fourth of July, not that that was when we met either. God, do you really not remember?”

“It was ages ago,” Lupin says with a roll of his eyes. 

“It was only five years!” Jigen doesn’t know why he’s getting riled up. He knows Lupin, knows that his memories, like his truths, are selective, that he picks and chooses what he remembers on a whim. Anything unpleasant is discarded or overwritten with a more agreeable narrative. It’s what lets him forgive Fujiko again and again even though he’s so burned by now there’s nothing left to torch. But Jigen thought that this at least he would remember.

“What I do remember is seeing you for the first time,” Lupin says, eyes back up at the sky and a faint smile on his lips. “You were like a spitfire; I’d never seen anything shoot that fast. Like there was no separation between the trigger and your arm.” He points his own hand up to the sky, pretending to pull an imagined trigger in time with another brilliant explosion of light and colour. “I couldn’t work out how you did it, not with your eyes covered like that. Thought it must be a trick, that you had a mechanical eye or something.”

Jigen huffs a laugh, ducking his head, his neck feeling warm. “I wondered why you wanted to see under my hat, you little prick.”

“I think I knew then, from that first meeting.” Jigen looks over to Lupin, catches his eyes on him, fiery just like that very first time.

“Knew what?” he asks, voice coming out rougher than he’d intended.

“Knew I couldn’t let you go.” The bang of the fireworks seems very distant here on their rooftop. Jigen can’t hear anything over his own heartbeat in his ears.

“You make me sound like one of your treasures,” Jigen tries to joke. “What, did you want to steal me too?”

Lupin laughs and knocks their shoulders together again. “Well, I did, didn't I?”

 _Yeah_ , Jigen thinks, _yeah you did_.

*

It always surprises Jigen how like water blood is. He always thinks of it as thick and slow, too important not to be, but now it’s seeping between his fingers like whiskey out an uncorked bottle. It makes his shirt cling to him uncomfortably. He absently wonders if he could somehow convince Lupin to trade with him. Lupin had once claimed he’d give Jigen the shirt off his back if he asked when he was trying to worm his way back into his affections. It would be funny to remind him of that now.

It’s been years since Jigen’s been shot, so long that he’d forgotten the way the force of it reverberates through your whole body, how it knocks the breath out of you long before the pain can really kick in. 

He can’t even remember how they got him back to the car. Jigen had half a mind to tell them not to bother -- he’d taken the bullet in the gut and he knows a kill shot when he sees it -- but Lupin had a hand around his waist and the other in his hair and Jigen didn’t have it in him to tell him no.

The car hits a bump in the road, or maybe the pavement, causing him to jostle violently and the pain in his gut to explode to a near unbearable degree.

“Why’d you let her drive?” Jigen rasps, voice nearly gone. “She’ll kill us all before this bullet gets me.”

The sound of Lupin’s slightly hysterical laughter is too loud for Jigen’s ears that are still ringing from the gunshot.

“Fujiko can out race even me, you know that,” he says. He’s holding onto Jigen so tight Jigen can feel the bite of his nails on his arm through the fabric of his clothes. Their hands are intertwined where they’re pushing down on the hole in Jigen’s stomach, fruitlessly trying to keep the blood inside him. “Besides I wanted to keep you company back here.”

Jigen turns and presses his face into the warmth of Lupin’s chest, too far gone to be embarrassed. He could single out Lupin’s cologne in a crowd. It's familiar, distinct. It smells like every room Jigen has stayed in for the last seven years.

Fujiko is saying something, her voice a higher register than usual, and Goemon gives a murmuring reply from the passenger seat, low and sombre. Jigen regrets that he can't hear what they're saying, he would have liked to have heard them one last time.

"You're going to be OK," Lupin says, as though predicting his thoughts. Jigen's never heard that quake in his voice before. “Not long now, Jigen, you’ll be fine.”

Jigen laughs, a wet rattling sound. "Liar," he says with blood in his teeth.

*

Jigen doesn’t recognise the room he wakes up in, but it’s familiar enough he doesn’t immediately panic. They’ve used places like this -- abandoned houses, warehouses absent of stock -- as makeshift clinics when their injuries were too extensive to handle on their own. The fact he’s woken up at all means a surgeon must have been bribed to look him over. The expensive looking machinery that surrounds his bed and the morphine drip attached to his arm makes Jigen certain of this.

Amongst the machinery keeping Jigen alive is Lupin. He’s hunched in a chair by his bed that can’t be comfortable, body contorted to stay upright in it as he sleeps. He’s always been able to sleep anywhere.

Exhaustion is dragging Jigen back under but he fights against it, wanting to watch Lupin for as long as he can. Lupin always looks older when he’s not in motion, not animated with excitement over some plan or joke. The years pile back on when he stops and he finally looks his age.

When he wakes again Lupin is awake too, smiling at him as Jigen blinks back into the world. “Hey there, Jigen,” he says softly. His eyes crinkle at the edges with crow’s feet Jigen hadn’t noticed before. He could have gone to his grave without knowing so much about the man he’s loved longer and harder than anyone else.

“Lupin,” Jigen breathes, voice distant and hazy. The morphine is good, he can’t feel a thing. “Lupin, tell me something about you that’s real.”

Lupin’s takes his hand and Jigen’s fingers tingle like there’s no blood left in them, making it feel like there’s a phantom hand in his. “You scared the shit out of me,” Lupin says and for now that’s enough.

*

It takes weeks for Jigen to be strong enough to get out of bed but Lupin stays by his side. Fujiko and Goemon disappear together after the first week but Jigen doesn’t blame them. He feels like he can breathe better without the weight of the concerned looks they give him when they think he’s not looking. Pity was something he’s never been good at handling and Lupin’s hovering concern is bad enough.

When Jigen can be moved they drive down to a bungalow on the coast Lupin had found and they spend a few months there as Jigen recovers. The house opens out onto the beach and every morning Lupin helps Jigen into his chair on the terrace, looking out onto the sea. He brings him books and magazines to read, even wheeling out the TV for him to watch, but most of the time Jigen just looks out at the view. The sea is something Jigen was always fascinated by. Growing up he’d dreamt of having an apartment that looked out over the Hudson and he wonders what his child self would think of him now.

Usually confinement and boredom doesn’t suit Lupin but Jigen suspects he’s making a deliberate effort to remain cheerful. He laughs and jokes about playing nursemaid even when Jigen hasn’t the energy to match him. At first Jigen feels a surge of guilt and shame every time Lupin brings him his meals or helps him into his shirt but Lupin is so bright and breezy about the whole thing that even that starts to melt away. 

They both adapt in their own ways and soon the house fills with gadgets Lupin makes and stacks of papers filled with ideas and plans. Lupin brings home a box of old guns from town and Jigen spends hours meticulously fixing and cleaning each of them.

The day Jigen is finally strong enough to make it down to the shore is when he finally starts to feel like his old self. They roll up their trousers and kick about in the shallows like kids. Lupin cackles like a mad thing and splashes him so much that Jigen gets him in a headlock then pushes him into the water. He knows Lupin lets him because he’s too weak to have properly won a fight, but still he laughs until his sides ache as Lupin spits out salt water.

“You picked out which one of these you want to do next?” Jigen asks one night, nudging a stack of Lupin’s plans that are scattered on the coffee table. He’d just got the all clear from the doctor he’d been seeing -- disguised and with a fake ID -- and the last of the bandages over his ribs removed.

“I’m still deciding,” Lupin says vaguely. “I’ll know once we’re on the road again.”

Jigen can’t say he’s sad to leave the house as he’s more than ready to move on, but he feels a little regretful as he watches it disappear in the rear-view mirror. He thinks about the black burn on the kitchen table Lupin had made by putting down a too hot pot, his favourite spot on the terrace that caught the most sun, that one floorboard in the bathroom that creaked too loudly in the middle of the night. It had been a slice of normal life that Jigen had never thought he’d experience. He watches Lupin as he whistles a chipper tune, hands dangling over the steering wheel, and wonders if it had felt real for him too.

They’re on the road for a few days, long enough they’ve crossed over a few European country borders. Jigen hasn’t really been paying attention, dozing on and off as his sleep schedule is still on recovery time, but when he recognises the language on a passing billboard he turns to Lupin and says, “France, then?”

“Yeah, there’s something I want to do here.” Jigen thinks about prying more but it’s always annoying trying to wheedle answers out of Lupin if he’s not in the mood to give them so he leaves it be.

The built-up city turns into rural countryside and they pass through a few rustic towns before eventually stopping in one for the night. They’re sitting in a restaurant making their way through stacked plates when the owner comes out and greets Lupin by name, shaking his hand and speaking so quickly in French Jigen can’t keep up.

“What was all that about?” Jigen mutters when he leaves.

Lupin shrugs. “He just recognised me, the trappings that come with being a world-famous thief. Food’s on the house, by the way, so you’re welcome.” 

Lupin knocks on his bedroom door early the next day with coffee and a bag full of pastries. “Not far to go today,” he says, bright and excitable. “Thought we’d get a head start and have breakfast on the road.”

Jigen picks at a croissant in the passenger seat but doesn’t have much of an appetite, letting Lupin wolf down most of it. He dozes with his head against the door until Lupin pats him on his thigh.

“Hey,” he says, his voice a little tight. “We’re nearly there.” Jigen blinks the sleep out his eyes and pushes back his hat to look around them. They’re approaching wrought iron gates, tall and imposing. Beyond it Jigen can make out a grand manor house and grounds that look even more impressive.

“Shit, Lupin, maybe you should tell me what the friggin plan is before we’re actually inside,” Jigen snaps, feeling thrown and off kilter. It’s been so long since Lupin had kept him in the dark like this that he’d forgotten the sting of it. “Are we robbing this place or what?”

“Not this time,” is all Lupin says before he stops the car just in front of the gate. “Wait here.”

“Lupin, what the-” But he’s already out the car before Jigen can finish the question. Jigen mutters under his breath, picking over the stacked pile of used cigarettes in the ashtray for the most decent looking one. He chews on it as he watches Lupin open the locked gates with a set of keys he’d gotten from God knows where.

“I suppose you're not going to tell me where you got that either,” Jigen says when Lupin returns to the car, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. Lupin just smiles and starts the engine. 

The drive up is very quiet. Jigen strains his ears for any sound of unhappy owners ready to protect their properly but they see no one. The grounds are well tended and lavish, the grass neatly trimmed and the flower beds flourishing, so clearly there is _someone_ here to take care of it. Jigen gets out of the car cautiously when they stop, hand on the magnum in his belt, still expecting to meet some resistance to their trespassing.

“You can relax, Jigen,” Lupin says, smiling at him over the roof of the car. “No one’s home.”

“How can you be sure?” Jigen asks suspiciously.

“Well, because I own it.” 

Jigen stares at him incredulously. “ _You_ own this place?”

“Yeah.” Lupin laughs at Jigen’s expression and taps the top of the car. “Come on in.” He leads Jigen up to the large wooden door that’s twice their height, producing another key that unlocks it. 

Lupin takes him through a vast entrance hall into a living area. Every item here is spectacular, every wall hangs a masterpiece, every surface holds a treasure or wonder from every corner of the world. There are dustsheets covering most of the furniture but it barely diminishes the splendour of the place. Jigen steps over a Persian rug to stare up at a dark and moody piece that covers an entire wall and could only be a lost Rembrandt.

“I’m going to go see if I can turn the power on,” Lupin says from behind him. Jigen turns and sees that he looks nervous. “The people that mind the place usually turn it off when they’re away.”

Jigen nods, too taken aback to think of a response, and watches him walk out the room, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. He gets what Lupin is doing even if he doesn’t understand why.

Jigen explores the house on his own, finding new wonders at every turn. In an old library he finds first editions of Dickens and Shelly. There’s a complete skeleton of a mammoth in a hall that must have been used for dancing. A Turner hangs above the fireplace in a morning room.

On the second-floor landing Jigen stops and stares up at an unknown painting that’s the most interesting thing he’s come across so far. It’s of three men, the oldest in a high-backed chair looking imposing, almost regal. Behind him stands a man who looks to be about thirty, who’s straight backed and hard eyed as he looks out the canvas. The last, who is no more than a boy, smiles at the forefront, the hand of the eldest on his shoulder. All three men look like they share the same face at different stages of a life, the familiar resemblance uncanny. Jigen looks up at the boy, knowing Lupin at any age.

There’s a bedroom on the same floor that’s just as opulent and ornate as the rest of the rooms, but has a stack of toys and games in a chest in the corner. It could only have been Lupin’s before he’d turned his back on the house. 

The air is stuffy and stale in the room so Jigen opens the double doors that lead out to a balcony, letting the fresh air blow away the cobwebs.

Lupin finds him sitting at the desk in the room, the chair turned so he could look out the open doors into the grounds.

“Should have known you’d wind up in here,” Lupin says from the doorway. “Hope you haven’t gone through all my secret draws, Jigen.” The joke falls flat as Lupin’s heart wasn’t really in it. The nervousness is still present in his voice.

“What is this, Lupin?” Jigen asks, not turning to look at him. “What am I supposed to get from seeing your childhood bedroom?”

Lupin walks into the room and sits gingerly down on the foot of the bed opposite Jigen. Ever since they’d arrived Lupin had moved like he didn’t belong here, like he daren’t touch anything lest he break it.

“I’ve never told anyone about this place,” he says, rubbing at his palm in a nervous tick Jigen had never noticed. “It's just been sitting here collecting dust that I pay people to clean away. This was who I was for a long time, or who I was supposed to be anyway. The little room that’s left I was supposed to fill with my own treasures, how silly is that? All these beautiful things that are supposed to just stay locked up in here for only a Lupin to enjoy.” Lupin laughs again but it's not a happy thing.

Jigen nods, understanding so much more now.

“I don’t really know why I brought you here, Jigen,” Lupin continues. The eyes that meet Jigen’s are scared and vulnerable. “Guess I just wanted to show you that there is something about me that’s real, even if I don’t want it to be.”

Jigen stands and Lupin tenses as he watches him approach and Jigen’s heart aches for him. “I’ve always known that, Lupin,” he says and leans down to kiss him.

Lupin lets out a soft gasp and Jigen uses it to push further, claiming his mouth deeper. He can’t remember the first time he’d thought about kissing Lupin, it’s been a want for so long it seems like it has always been there, humming in the background every time Lupin smiled at him or touched him for longer than was necessary. He wonders how long he would have kept on denying himself if Lupin hadn’t been the first one to give just a little.

He pushes Lupin further up the bed, tugging at his clothes as they go. Lupin’s hands are shaking as they pull at his tie and Jigen takes them in his own, moving to press a kiss to each knuckle.

“Jigen,” Lupin whispers in the air between them. “ _Jigen_.”

They’re naked before either of them can really comprehend it, with Jigen straddling Lupin’s thighs. Lupin ducks his head to press kisses to the freshly healed scar on Jigen’s stomach, and a gasp stutters in Jigen’s chest.

“Lay back,” Jigen says, voice deep and rough. “Let me.” He slides down Lupin’s body to take his hard cock in his mouth. Lupin shouts, loud and hoarse, and it’s only Jigen’s hands on his hips that keeps him from forcing himself down his throat.

Jigen sucks him down, bobbing his head and swirling his tongue over the rounded tip, tasting the bitter precome. The soft moans and whines Lupin is letting out drives Jigen on, his own hips grinding down into the expensive sheets. He relaxes his throat enough to take Lupin deep, pressing his nose flush to the wiry hair at the base of his cock.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lupin gasps, hands raking over Jigen’s shoulders and neck, tugging at his hair. “I’m so close.” Jigen pulls back, releasing Lupin’s cock with a wet sound and letting it rub against his cheek.

“Want you in me, Lupin,” he rasps, voice wrecked. “Wanna ride you.” Lupin laughs, breathless and happy, and Jigen’s never been so hard in his life.

“Yeah, yeah, _God_ , please let me fuck you.”

Jigen leans over to where his jacket was tossed onto the floor and feels around in the pockets for the oil he uses on his gun.

“You sure you’re OK with using that?” Lupin asks dubiously.

Jigen grunts. He’d take anything if it meant he got Lupin in him sooner. He pours some out onto his fingers, fumbling with it a little so some spills over onto Lupin’s stomach. Lupin laughs again and rubs it in with the flat of his palm. 

Jigen lifts himself up further on his knees and reaches behind him, pressing a finger slowly inside. Lupin’s hands smooth up his stomach, over his chest and thighs, the oil still on his fingers, making them slippery, as Jigen spreads himself. Jigen finds it grounds him, keeps his breath steady as he pushes in another finger. 

“This is so hot, Jigen, fuck, you take it so well.” Jigen tips his head back and laughs breathlessly at the string of compliments pouring out of Lupin's mouth. He probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it.

It’s not enough when he pulls his fingers free but he can’t wait anymore, not when Lupin is looking up at him like that from the pillow. He shifts forwards, clutching at Lupin’s hard cock behind him with one hand, then lines him up and sits back. 

The burn of it forces the breath out of him and he has to wait a minute, dragging air back into his lungs before he can continue. All the while Lupin strokes his thighs and whispers sweet nothings. Jigen’s got sweat in his eyes and his chest is heaving by the time he’s fully seated, Lupin’s cock feeling thick and hot inside him.

“ _Jigen_ ,” Lupin groans, sounding as ruined as Jigen feels. They can’t last long like this.

Jigen grinds his hips down onto the feeling of fullness. There’s not enough slick so he feels every movement, every shift of the hardness inside him.

Lupin’s hands move up to hold his waist. “Move with me,” he rasps, and Jigen begins to rock his hips in tune with the hands tugging at his waist. Jigen rakes his hands up Lupin’s chest, using it to lever himself as he pushes his hips down onto him.

They speed up, growing more confident moving together, and the sound of flesh slapping on flesh and the groan of the old mattress fills the room. The breeze from the open doors isn’t enough to cool the fever on Jigen’s skin. He’s burning up from the inside, scorching where Lupin is fucking heat into him.

“Lupin,” he gasps. “Lupin, you can do it inside.”

Lupin swears loudly, his hold on Jigen’s waist tightening as his hips buck up, hard and fast into him. Jigen comes with Lupin’s name on his lips and the warm, slick feeling of him filling his insides.

The house is quiet as they lay panting and entangled together. Jigen can’t bring himself to move where he’s splayed out over Lupin, regardless of the sticky mess between them. Lupin’s fingers come to tangle in his hair, scratching soothingly at his scalp. Jigen drifts into a doze with the feel of Lupin’s heartbeat under his cheek.

After they’ve washed and redressed, they go down to the wine cellar and bring up as many bottles as they can carry. Jigen raids the pantry of all its best dry food while Lupin finds some old garden furniture and they make a base for themselves on the patio to watch the sun go down.

They drink out of goblets that had once sat in the Palace of Versailles and eat off plates that had once belonged to Napoleon.

Lupin is looser now, there’s no nervousness or hesitance as he talks. He shares about the house, about the grandfather who had essentially raised him and the father who had been cold. Jigen listens to him, content and sated, knowing every word to be true. 

He’s so close to Lupin now that he can reach out and entwine their fingers together. His hand feels real and solid in his own.

**Author's Note:**

> I will force character depth and backstory onto Lupin if it kills me. I realise I might have been a little cold in my perception of Fujiko in this but that's just bc Jigen is hopelessly jealous and a resentful hater. I make up for it by having him get shot twice in the same fic.
> 
> I'm on [twitter](https://twitter.com/cgijigen) :^)


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